Gunmetal: Jump On It
by Zeff N Company
Summary: Issue 1: TS24 - When Cloud took the job from Organization XIII to retrieve their missing test subject, it should have been easy. The broken man he found made it anything but. Scenario drabbles written for Out-of-Character217, based on her Feb 2011 piece SUBJECT: TS24.


_Everyone who enjoyed Gunmetal, who waited on the next chapter that took too long to come forth, this is for you._

_Gunmetal: Jump On It - not side stories, not a prequel, not even a time-skipping sequel. So what is it and why did I bother?_

_It's basically my response - to fanfiction, to ideas, to what I could never fit into the main GM storyline but would be great fun to try out anyway._

_Issue 1: TS24 is dedicated to Out-of-Character217, who wrote the tribute piece SUBECT: TS24 in February 2011. So if you're here, and you're reading this - thank you. Please accept this tribute to your tribute.  
_

_ISSUE NOTES:_

_That said, Issue 1: TS24 was never meant to be a full length chapter or even the beginning of a new series, but a list of drabbles based on the 100 Themes Challenge in deviantArt, then reordered chronologically to make some quasi-kind of sense. It was a challenge that I put upon myself to make sure I did not stop writing, and in retrospect I've done worse with myself at work..._

_All said and done, these two can be read side by side, or one at a time. All I ask is, do read them both - this one wouldn't have been without the other._

* * *

**ISSUE 1: TS24**

_Introduction_

In the tomb, there was still a body laid to rest against cold stone... except it was flesh and blood and alive, if the soft wheezing meant anything. In two seconds Cloud realized what he was looking at, and then he stepped forward. Setting the flashlight on the stone floor, he knelt beside the body for a closer look.

It was a man, about his age. His hair looked like it had been cropped clumsily just to get it out of the way, before it grew back just long enough to partially cover his eyes – he probably hadn't been here very long. He was stripped to his waist, threadbare jeans hanging loosely from his frame, and the mercenary could count the ribs that appeared against his skin. His entire back was a gruesome mess of blood and dirt and pus, signs of possible torture – he couldn't even make out individual wounds or how bad they might be. What truly sickened him in the whole scene of it was the sight of thick chains wrapped around hands and feet in a hogtie and secured by a heavy lock, rendering the man helpless to even save himself.

Whoever did this had deliberately left him here to die.

"... Hey. Hey, can you hear me?" he called urgently. He was answered by a raspy moan. Good enough. "I'm getting you out of these. Try to stay awake, alright?"

There was no second response. Grabbing his flashlight, Cloud got to his feet and ducked out into the corridor. The trek to his bike and back took longer than he liked, but the second time he shone light on those chains, he had wire-cutters at one of their links. Steeling himself, he put all his strength into the handles as he squeezed them together.

Surprisingly, the links came apart relatively easily. Setting the cutters aside, Cloud carefully unwound the mess of metal, wincing as he saw where sharp tarnish had cut into skin. The man remained unresponsive despite being freed, allowing Cloud to carefully position him in a less vulnerable manner. Something black that didn't look like infection caught his eye, and he shone light on the man's shoulder.

Tattooed into the base of his neck, across the length of his right shoulder to back of his arm, were four large characters: TS24.

_No way_.

Reaching up, Cloud brushed aside grimy hair and shone light upon the man's face. The long diagonal scar was unmistakable.

TS24, age 25. The stolen DKM13 test subject from Organization XIII, chemically enhanced for unparalleled strength, speed and agility. The answer to the Organization's quest for superhuman warriors. The perfect soldier.

And Hojo had discarded him like garbage.

He had no time to think about what that could mean, as he heard the slightest hitch in already shallow breathing. No time at all.

"Stay with me, okay?" He urged the other. "Do you... do you know where you are? Do you know your name?"

It surprised him when the man managed to pry his eyes open. Glassy gunmetal gray wobbled uncertainly before squinting against the harsh light. The body tensed and did no more, too weak for a fight.

"... Well, I'm Cloud," he continued speaking, hoping to anchor the other with his grip on his bicep. "And I'm the guy who's going to get you out of here."

* * *

_Light/Dark_

He woke up blind and in pain.

Pain jarring down his spine, pain seizing up his arms. Pain that burned his eyeballs from the inside out in sheer white fire.

Bright, he realized through his surge of panic. Way too bright.

There was a quiet "click" and the pain subsided. As familiar darkness fell over him, he blinked the dots away.

And then his sight returned to him, slowly focusing on shapes and silhouettes to reveal ordinary furniture in a small room. Standing in the doorway was a blond man dressed in a black tee with loose tan slacks, his hand still up and fingers still touching the wall.

"Sorry," the blond man spoke to him. "I forgot you'd need a while to adjust."

* * *

_Innocence_

Xigbar called at four in the morning, demanding an answer. Cloud hung up on him.

Three hours later, Xigbar called again. Cloud told him only that Hojo was no longer at the location they gave him, and the trail had already gone cold. He let them assume whatever they wanted about his other target. With Organization XIII temporarily appeased, the mercenary checked in on his new tenant.

TS24 had managed somehow to move himself from the bed to the floor, but the rips to his mattress were a fairly good clue as to how much the man was depending on his upper body strength. Deciding against commenting on the damage, Cloud instead watched the brunet pick up one of his many crystal cases as delicately as possible, curiously turning it over in his hands.

Cloud recognized that particular case at once. Despite himself, he smiled and stepped forward.

"You know," he offered, reclaiming the case easily, "this thing works better when you stick it in the player."

TS24 blinked back in confusion, those fascinating gray eyes watching the blond's movements as he pried the case open and inserted the disc into the player. A few button presses later, and the brunet startled as a new noise burst forth in their surroundings.

"Give it a minute," Cloud prompted, sitting down once more in his chair. He was surprised that, albeit hesitantly, the brunet listened to him.

They sat like that for a little while, just listening. As he watched, Cloud saw TS24's muscles visibly relax.

"My mother was the worst kind of sixties junkie when I was a kid," he explained softly. "I used to come home every day to these songs and her off-key accompaniment. She took such good care to protect her mix discs from the elements, they... well, they were all that survived the fire."

TS24 turned around, but his focus was on the player and the music that it was playing. He cocked his head ever so slightly, a peculiar sight that prompted Cloud to liken him to a curious kitten.

And his baritone voice was soft and hoarse and timidly shy, almost drowned out by drums and guitar. Cloud heard him anyway.

"... I like it."

* * *

_Advertisement_

"Which one do you like?"

TS24 looked up from the book in his hands, cocking his head in question. Cloud jerked his own back in the direction of the old telly, where the trailers for the latest animated young adult series were running. TS24 peered at the screen, his eyes narrowed in open distaste for the overdose of armor and swords and generally pointless-looking violence. Cloud prompted further.

"So which one would you rather I call you? Guy or Leon?" When the brunet feigned disinterest, Cloud added slyly, "if you don't tell me, I get to pick."

TS24 immediately homed in on him with horror written all over his face. Cloud stared right back with a challenging smirk on his face.

Finally, as eyes narrowed again in obvious annoyance, "I don't want to be 'Guy'."

"Leon it is, then."

* * *

_No Time_

"Five seconds," the medic snapped at him. "Not one day. Not one night. In five seconds, he can forget who he is, who you are, and why he prefers keeping you alive. And at the end of those five seconds... not even a real doctor can bring back the dead."

* * *

_Stripes/Seeing Red/Mirror_

Even with antibiotics, clean dressings, and an actual chance to heal, the marks decorating Leon's back remained an angry red. Perhaps they looked worse than they really were, the brunet not so much as flinching as Cloud ran warm water down them.

"Who did this to you?" Cloud wondered aloud. "And why would they?"

"... what?" Leon asked, turning his head. Cloud lifted his hand from the other's shoulder and turned his head forward again.

"Never mind me, hold still."

Leon did not answer, silently putting up with the blond carefully wiping his back clean.

It had to be shock, Cloud guessed. Repressed memories. It was the only explanation he could think of as to why Leon seemed so confused and unfamiliar with his own circumstances.

Done with the other's back, Cloud dropped the towel on top of Leon's head. The brunet's hands came up at once, taking over the rest of the drying process with relative ease. At least, all things considered, the man was no longer as helpless as he had been before.

He had turned away for perhaps half a second when he heard the towel land heavily on the bathroom tiles. He turned back at once.

Leon had frozen in place, his eyes staring blankly into the mirror at his reflection. He wasn't looking at the scars on his back, but at the tattoo on his shoulder.

"Hey," Cloud called to him, "you okay?"

Leon's answer was to send his fist smashing into the mirror with that incredibly inhuman force. Glass shattered instantly, sharp fragments flying every which way. Cloud cursed and stepped forward.

"Leon, stop-"

But the man had turned, his bloody fist raised again. Before the blond could think, he felt that fist drive into him like a hammer. His head exploded in a burst of stars.

And then there was only darkness.

Darkness and screams.

* * *

_Give up/Trouble Lurking_

When the medic answered on the third ring, he didn't sound too pleased at being woken up from his sweet dreams... or whatever it was he was doing.** "What do you want now, Strife?"** he had ground out irritably.

"... you were right," Cloud answered sluggishly. One hand squeezed the handset, the other pressed a towel to the back of his head. He could still feel the wound dripping, and dizziness... if he passed out now, he was probably done for. "He's lost it. He's lost it, he's coming apart, and I don't know what to do. I need your help."

* * *

_Memory/Seeking Solace_

The panic attacks had become more frequent, and every night Leon woke up screaming.

It was everything he had been warned about, that each awakened memory would be powerful enough to trigger another one.

TS24 was remembering. Leon was sinking deeper into the depths.

If this kept up, who really knew what would be left at the end of it all?

Even as the screams finally subsided, Cloud wasn't sure if it was safe for him to enter his own bedroom. He turned his head, finding the filled syringe on the table where the medic had left it.

Sleep had worked before. Sleep might just work again.

But even now, it still didn't seem right.

Cloud finally stood up and stepped carefully toward the bedroom. The syringe stayed on the table.

And when Cloud opened the door and peered into the darkness, he felt his heart sink.

All over the floor were shattered crystal cases, his mother's mix discs strewn everywhere. Sitting at the center of all that mess, the brunet had curled into himself, nails digging into the back of his neck with such force he was bleeding.

"... Leon," he called to him gently, "stop that. You're hurting yourself."

The man did not answer him, too far gone into his own head filled to overflowing with all his memories.

Cloud did not know what to do. Touching the other was dangerous now, both to himself and the already high-strung man. Sedating him now would only mean dealing with it all over again as soon as the chemicals wore off.

Looking down, the blond finally bent down and picked up the disc closest to his foot and turned it over - it wasn't scratched, at least. Carefully stepping over the mess on the floor, he turned the player on and set it to loop.

Soft, soothing chords filled the room. Cloud found his chair and pulled it over. He gave himself about three steps of gap between himself and the other before he sat down to wait.

They sat like that, together yet apart, just listening as a man sang about the goodness of a world that they barely understood.

Finally, a hushed whisper broke their mutual silence, hoarse and upset:

"Why help me?"

Cloud did not turn his head, only staring forward at the many shards of plastic on the floor.

"... I don't know," he answered. "But I couldn't just leave you."

* * *

_Broken Pieces_

"Tell me... How do you fix something when it is so completely broken?"

The medic looked up from his bottles and syringes. Then he laid them down.

"First, you gather up the pieces," he replied, reaching up to slip his glasses off the bridge of his nose, "and you put them back together as best you can. Then, you give it time."

"Time?" Cloud questioned. The medic nodded.

"Time," he reaffirmed, "and faith."

* * *

_Heal_

It was the thin melody that roused him from his sleep. When Cloud opened his eyes, he could feel a serious crick going on in his neck and back from his impromptu nap in the chair. It made him feel old.

But the music had not been a dream. Instead, the singing of a close harmony group filtered in. Despite his sore neck, he turned his head.

Leon stood over the disc player, staring down at it as the disc spun round and round. He was shifting his weight carefully, as though not entirely sure what to do with himself. Cloud watched him warily, wondering if the brunet had found something else to break.

_Tap._

His eyes widened at once, and he stared in shock at the man's back. Leon did not react, still staring down at the player and the number of the track it was playing.

Then, unbelievably, he raised his foot ever so slightly and brought it down again.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Relief crashed into the blond, threatening to drown him. He continued to stare, and the brunet continued to ignore him. All throughout, his foot continued to hesitantly tap against the floor.

It was a long and hard road, learning to live again... but at least now, this time, Leon wanted to.

* * *

_Hold My Hand_

Just as quickly as he had struggled afloat, Leon started to sink again.

Cloud sat at his side, watching him fight to breathe through imaginary pain assaulting him from all sides. His fingers twitched, squeezing and releasing as he resisted the urge to dig down into his still healing neck.

When another hand brushed against his, Leon tensed immediately and pulled back.

"... No."

Cloud lowered his hand again with a sigh. "Still don't trust me?"

"It wants you dead."

This time the blond mercenary leaned forward. "Who wants me dead, Leon?"

"This demon inside me."

The words chilled him to the core, as he recalled Xigbar's briefing that seemed so very long ago. Thirty-five children had been subjected to horrors that should have only existed in nightmares, and Leon was only one of the two that somehow survived. Survived, yes, but he was doomed to never _live_ again. Not normally.

Determined, Cloud reached forward again, this time capturing the other's hand in his and squeezing tightly. Leon's went completely slack.

"... what about you?" Cloud questioned quietly. "What do you want, Leon?"

For a long time the brunet did not answer him, his free hand still twitching as he struggled with his past and the darkness inside him that was its result.

A finger curled, squeezing gently back.

"... Just stay there," Leon told him. "Please."

* * *

_Insanity/Breaking the Rules/Cat_

"I've changed my mind, Xemnas," Cloud told the answering machine. "I've decided your asking price is too low."

At the other end of the couch and bored out of his mind, Leon had fallen asleep. Cloud watched him as he continued to talk.

"Get someone else to find Hojo for you. From what info I gathered, he's already got himself another test subject he likes way better. That should be enough for you."

There was a creak of leather as Leon tipped a little to the side. Cloud reached over to snag the brunet by the arm and tugged lightly, negotiating the other to lie across the sofa with his head in his lap. When Leon's only reaction was to sigh deeply and relax against him, Cloud found himself smiling.

"You can keep your munny," he said, laying his hand on Leon's shoulder, "but I'm keeping the cat."

* * *

_Love/Dying_

It was funny when he thought about it. After all, weren't chest wounds supposed to hurt?

And why was he floating?

Cloud groaned, struggling to refocus his thoughts. Nothing would cooperate - his mind was soup, his limbs were lead. His lap was wet and heavy, and every breath was more difficult than the last.

But then he realized a second pair of arms were wrapped around him in a tight protective embrace. A vaguely familiar baritone voice was whispering in his ear.

"You did this," that voice whispered angrily - so much for sweet nothings. "You did this to me, you bastard."

Cloud finally forced his tired eyes open and looked up. All he could see was unkempt bronze locks in his immediate peripheral vision. He winced, feeling some of the pain cutting through the shock.

"... Hey."

Motion stopped, then dropped with a sudden lurch that nearly made him pass out right there. Then the bronze head lifted from his, finally coming into view. He squinted, trying to bring it into focus.

The most amazing pair of gunmetal grays stared back down at him. Shadow swirled in their depths like a rising storm, and their surface shimmered in the light.

He never wanted to look away from those eyes again. More than anything, now more than ever, he wanted them to be the first and last thing he ever saw for the rest of his life. Perhaps that was what the saying meant, how everything was so much clearer when you tethered on the threshold.

There was a rush of exhaled breath, and those eyes disappeared briefly when lips brushed against his temple.

"You unbelievable son of a bitch," Leon whispered in his ear, his voice hoarse with relief and agony. Cloud breathed a tired laugh.

"So...what happened to the other guy...?"

"Don't know, don't care," the other growled. "Though... Hojo always meant for him to surpass me, so I honestly doubt gouging a hole through his torso will stop him for very long."

"...you did that...?"

"He stabbed you first. I had to return the favor."

Cloud tried to laugh again, but then he felt his chest tighten. The air around him was suddenly colder than he remembered. He realized what was going on, dreaded what it meant.

Those strong hands holding him started to tremble.

"Leon," he tried again, "you know...this isn't your fault, right?"

"Of course it isn't," Leon retorted in his usual dark manner. "It's yours entirely. You should have sold me when you had the chance."

_I should have, _Cloud agreed. _But I didn't. And then... I guess that just wasn't an option anymore._

He could barely keep his eyes open now. Breathing was draining what little strength he had left.

So little time...

"I need you to know... Just in case I-"

"Don't you dare."

Quite suddenly one of Leon's hands had left their hold and instead seized him by the front of his bloody shirt. His eyes were filled with almost animal rage.

"After everything you put me through," he snarled, "don't you dare say goodbye."

Stunned into silence, Cloud only looked up into those eyes again. Those eyes were bearing right back into his.

Nothing else mattered.

Then Leon gathered Cloud back up in his arms, rose as gently as he could, and continued to walk.

"Don't go anywhere," he was begging quietly. "Stay with me."

With a soft sigh, Cloud relaxed fully against the other, his eyes sliding shut as he managed an exhausted reply:

"Only you."

* * *

_Relaxation/Happiness_

Cloud no longer knew a morning where he woke up to silence.

At seven on the dot, the sound of drums and bass guitar crept into the bedroom, closed door be damned, and slowly but surely dragged him out of dreamland. With his usual groan and grunts, the blond finally disentangled himself from the mess of sheets. He barely noticed the cold spot next to him in the bed, as he found and hauled his pants back on.

Five minutes later, he was leaning against the frame of his living room door, sipping a cup of hot soup and enjoying the view.

His disc player now had permanent residence here by the old telly, just two steps from the shut reflective windows. As much as he had wanted to keep it in the bedroom, there just wasn't enough standing room anymore.

Out here in the open space, slacks hanging loosely from his waist, his half-naked partner was tapping his feet, fists pumping and hips swaying to the rhythm and the beat.

Cloud could see the man's bare back, marked in so many dark lines that crisscrossed haphazardly in a display of callous cruelty. He could see the line of scarring just peeking from under the moving bronze mane. He could see the big black tattoo that branded the man with a name both solemnly accepted as the bitter memory of a past life.

He saw instead the soft smile in the reflection of the window. He saw instead the shut eyes as Leon opened himself entirely to the song that currently filled the room. He saw instead the rare glimpse of utter peace and absolute bliss that the man had deliberately lost himself in.

Then the man finally did notice him - he turned around, eyes open to regard the other. Cloud smiled and nodded in greeting. Leon's own smile widened a little more before he closed his eyes again and resumed his swaying.

Organization XIII had no idea how far their evaluated theories were from this present reality.

TS24 was a perfect killer, unmatched in power, speed and agility. They would have paid any price to get their hands on him.

Leon was far from perfect. He would always struggle, with himself as much as with the man he had come to love. They both knew days he fell so far, he almost never came back.

And there was no price the Organization could name that Cloud would even consider.

He stood in that doorway, leaning against the frame, watching his tragic, imperfect beauty dancing up a storm to his mother's favorite music against the warm red glow of the morning sun.

He had everything he had always wanted right there.


End file.
